NINETEEN

 

Nicksinclair started following you.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

Adrenaline surged through me. I quickly texted Ava.

Me: You’re right. Playing hard to get totally works.

Ava: Why? What happened?

Me: Nick started following me on Insta.

Ava: That’s it?

My mouth dropped open.

Me: What do you mean that’s it? It’s huge!

Ava: Ok.

Why didn’t she think this was a bigger deal?

Ava: Sam called me.

Me: Like on the phone?

That was so 1993.

Ava: Yep.

Me: What did you talk about?

Ava: Lots of stuff.

I felt a twinge of jealousy.

Me: Done playing hard to get?

Ava: IDK. Not sure I need to anymore.

I glanced at the empty spot on my nightstand where my phone sat in 1993. The phone that I used to talk to Nick on. I missed him. Not only the physical stuff. I mostly missed talking with him. Missed connecting with him.

There was a knock on the door. “Remy?” It was Aunt Kelly.

“Come in.” I dropped my phone on my bed next to my thigh.

“Hey, girl.” Aunt Kelly stepped inside. Her hair was shiny and sleek against her face. She wore a black tank top, a floral-patterned kimono, ripped jeans and black booties. She was so much cooler than me. I was a slob in my t-shirt and jeans. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She plunked down next to me, smelling like vanilla and something slightly floral. “Your mom said you’ve been busy. Going to football games and hanging out with Nick.” Her eyebrows raised.

I smiled. “Not really hanging out. He just helped me clean up the front yard after we’d been teepeed.”

“Teepeed? By who?”

Shrugging, I said, “Not sure. Maybe Ian. He’s been trying to get back together.”

“But you don’t want to?”

I shook my head.

“Cause you like Nick?”

I nodded.

“Then go for it,” she said with a wink and a nudge. “I saw him outside working on his car when I came in. Go out there and talk to him.”

My heart flip-flopped in my chest, but I forced it to calm. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause it will mess with my plan.”

“What plan?”

“My playing hard to get plan.”

She flashed me an amused smile. “How’s that working for you?”

I lifted my chin. “He followed me on Instagram.”

“Ooh, where are the wedding invitations?”

I threw her a stern look. “It’s something.”

“You kids and all your games.” Aunt Kelly sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You make everything too complicated. If you like Nick, talk to him. Let him get to know how wonderful you are. Relationships are actually pretty simple.”

“I wish,” I muttered.

“They are,” she insisted.

“Not for me,” I said. “I’m not one of them, Aunt Kelly. I’m not popular or a cheerleader. I don’t fit with Nick’s group.”

Kelly leaned forward. “Trust me, a boy doesn’t spend his Sunday morning helping a girl clean toilet paper off their front lawn unless he likes her.”

I wanted to believe her, but I wasn’t sure I did. When she left my room, I headed to the window and peered out. Sure enough, Nick was working on his car. I thought back to when he told me all about his grandpa.

He trusted me once. Told me things.

But that girl wasn’t me. She was fake.

I didn’t want to be fake with him anymore.

This was my world. My time period. My life. And I wanted him to know this me. The real me.

Turning, I caught my reflection.

Well, not this real.

Hurrying to the bathroom, I fixed my hair all sleek and shiny like Kelly’s. Then I put on some makeup and threw on a different outfit – skinny jeans, a long flowy top, my new tassel earrings, my stack bracelets, and my favorite pair of sandals.

If Ava saw me now she’d tell me I was trying too hard, but I didn’t care. Dude had seen me in my scruffy clothes way too much lately. Plus, I felt good in this outfit. Confident. Pretty.

When I got downstairs, I passed Mom and Kelly sitting in the kitchen drinking tea. They both raised their eyebrows, but I slipped outside before they could say anything.

Having no plans to pretend I was out here for any other reason, I simply marched right up to Nick. His head was partly obscured by the raised hood, and music played softly in the background from the wireless Bluetooth speaker that sat near his feet.

“Hey.” I smiled, leaning against the body of the car.

He looked up from the hood, his eyes instantly widening. “Hey.” His gaze shot up and down my body, his brows lifting slightly.

Ripples of satisfaction ran through my body.

“Whatcha up to today?” He asked, resting his hands on the front of his car.

I shrugged. “I figured since you helped me last weekend, I should return the favor.”

Smiling, he glanced around. “Sorry to disappoint, but there’s no toilet paper out here to clean up.”

I laughed lightly. “I meant I can help you with your car…or whatever…”

“Dressed like that?”

I glanced down. Oh. Right.

“It’s okay.” He slammed down the hood. I flinched. “I was done anyway.”

My heart sank. I shouldn’t have taken so long to get ready. “Why do you work on it so much?” If I could keep him talking, I could keep him out here with me.

“It’s an old car. Needs a lot of work.” A wistful look passed over his face. “It was my grandpa’s. He gave it to me when he passed.”

My insides fluttered. Warmth spread through all my limbs. He was doing it again. Talking to me. Sharing things.

“That’s cool. You two must’ve been really close.”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. I loved when he did that. “We were.”

“I’ve never really been that close to my grandparents,” I said. “But I’m close to my parents. And my Aunt.”

“The one that that’s always at your house?”

I nodded.

“She seems cool.”

“She is,” I agreed.

The song changed, and Nick smiled. Leaning down, he turned the volume up a little. “I love this song.”

“Rock is still your thing, huh?” I asked, remembering his Guns n’ Roses comment.

“Always.” With a grin, he held up the rock symbol with his hand and lightly headbanged.

I laughed. It was kind of funny. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who listened to rock music.

“I know you don’t like it,” he said, surprising me.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I hear what you listen to.” His head bobbed toward my window, and my cheeks flushed. I’ve got to start closing that damn window. “Girlie-pop.”

“It’s not girlie.” I scoffed.

“Oh, yes, it is.” He moved toward me, swaying his hips and dancing in a feminine way while singing a few lyrics from one of my favorite pop songs in a high-pitched voice.

I laughed.

“What?” He raised a brow, still dancing. I swallowed thickly. It was supposed to be silly, but the way he was thrusting his hips was a little sexy. “Isn’t this what you like?” Yes. Very much. I nodded. Laughing, he stopped dancing. “See? Girlie-pop.”

“Then what is your music? Manly-rock?”

“Oh, yeah.” He puffed out his chest. “Rock is definitely manly.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “I like girlie music. Whatever.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he narrowed his eyes as if studying me. “You’re different.”

His words caught me off guard. I thought we were having a good time. Laughing. Bantering. Why did he have to point out that I wasn’t like Brooke and the others? As if I needed a reminder. “Oh, you mean different than your girlfriend?”

“My girlfriend?” He laughed. “Didn’t know I had one.”

 “Brooke’s not your girlfriend?” I asked, surprised by my own boldness.

“Nope.”

“You two aren’t dating…or….?” hooking up? Oh, god, please don’t tell me he’s hooking up with her.

 “We’re definitely not dating.”

“Oh. I saw you two together, and you seemed…”

“Yeah, well, you know how Brooke is.”

I actually did know how Brooke was. That’s why I was worried.

“I guess I assumed you two were together. Seemed to fit.”

“Oh yeah?” He cocked a brow. “And why’s that?”

Biting my lip, I shrugged. “She’s your type.”

“My type? I didn’t know I had one.”

“Blond. Popular. Cheerleader.” I rattled them off on my fingers, thinking over his last couple of girlfriends.

“That’s only been a couple of them. It doesn’t describe every girl I’ve dated.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t know….” My stomach soured. Man, he must’ve dated a lot of girls then.

He pushed off his car and stepped closer to me. His eyes met mine. I held my breath. “Maybe next time before you accuse someone of something, you should do your homework.” He was so close, warm breath met my skin. “I’m not as shallow as you think I am.” Drawing back, his lips curled upward at the corners. He stepped backward a few steps and then threw me a wave. “I gotta get inside and get cleaned up. I’ll talk to you later.”

My tongue was as dry as a wad of cotton, and I couldn’t formulate a response. Instead, I forced a wobbly smile. Man, why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? He was clearly annoyed about what I said. And I guess I didn’t blame him. It was kind of insulting.

Ugh. Groaning, I stared up at the sky as I heard his front door slam.

Way to go, Rem.